| Song | Pour It Up (Remix) |
| Artist | Rihanna |
| Artist | Young Jeezy |
| Artist | Rick Ross |
| Artist | Juicy J |
| Artist | T.I. |
| Album | Welcome To 2013 (Mixed By DJ Battle) |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Say, Rih-Rih, let’s take this shit to the street one-time, you know? | |
| Throwin’ hundreds like loose change (still got my money) | |
| Got your broad in that Mulsanne (that Bentley, homie) | |
| Seats whiter than cocaine (that 40 on me) | |
| Got me and Chi-Chi, bring broads, mane | |
| She like my homie | |
| [Verse: Young Jeezy] | |
| I’m King Tut with my gold chain | |
| My partner with me, he the dope mane | |
| Straight gassed, nigga, that BP | |
| On that E40, that OG | |
| These bitch niggas be actin’ up | |
| These hoe niggas be actin’ foul | |
| They’ll grind with you, they’ll shine with you | |
| Be pointin’ fingers off at your trial | |
| My Rolls Royce with my driver in it | |
| Gettin’ fucked up ‘cause I ain’t got to drive | |
| Got Kendrick on them bottles | |
| Came and poured a swimming pool and we about to dive | |
| Got one room, got three bitches | |
| And you’re damn right that’s where they’re supposed to be | |
| Two glock .40s at all times | |
| I’ll shoot back if niggas shoot at me, you know it | |
| [Hook: Rihanna] | |
| Ohhh… | |
| All I see is signs | |
| All I see is dollar signs | |
| Ohhh… | |
| Money on my mind | |
| Money, money on my mind | |
| Throw it, throw it up | |
| Watch it fall out from the sky | |
| Throw it up, throw it up | |
| Watch it all fall out | |
| Pour it up, pour it up | |
| That’s how we ball out | |
| Throw it up, throw it up | |
| Watch it all fall out | |
| Pour it up, pour it up | |
| That’s how we ball out | |
| That’s how we ball out | |
| That’s how we ball out | |
| That’s how we ball out | |
| [Verse: Rick Ross] | |
| My foreign cars – domestic beefs | |
| Peter Luger’s – the better seats | |
| Dollar after dollar – bottle after bottle | |
| Late for you haters even though my plane charter | |
| Suede Bally shoes, true rude boy | |
| Ferrari 400 horses, we do it for cool points | |
| Baby, do the math – I’m coppin’ Chanel bags | |
| Talkin’ Bell Harbour cigars for her mans | |
| Know we run the streets, eatin’ cold bully beef | |
| Now we at the Grammys, Tom Ford to my feet | |
| Boss on the avey, Rihanna screensaver | |
| Whenever you see the fat boy, you know it mean paper | |
| [Verse: Juicy J] | |
| Juicy J pourin’ up codeine – Benz all white, no chlorine | |
| Bad chick with me got ass and titties | |
| Freaky bitch gon’ fuck the whole team | |
| Ziplock bag full of OG – I go in like a door key | |
| Your girlfriend on both knees, she catch more balls than a goalie | |
| Purple all in my sprite, I’m high as Denzel on Flight | |
| Scared of money, don’t make no money | |
| You niggas shaky like dice | |
| I’m in the bed with your wife | |
| We poppin’ pills, we goin’ hard | |
| When she with you she a church girl | |
| When she with me she a pornstar | |
| Smokin’ on doobies like cigarettes | |
| Which one of these strippers give head the best? | |
| Pussy so good that I think I’m in love | |
| What am I saying? It must be the drugs | |
| Pour it up, pop that ass out, make it rain, hoe | |
| I’ll make it flood, shorty, you might need a raincoat | |
| [Verse: Rihanna] | |
| Strip clubs and dollar bills | |
| Still got more money | |
| Patron shots, can I get a refill? | |
| I still got more money | |
| Strippers goin’ up and down that pole | |
| And I still got my money | |
| Four o’clock and we ain’t going home | |
| Still got more money | |
| Money make the world go around | |
| I still got my money | |
| Bands make your girl go down | |
| Still got more money | |
| Lot more where that came from | |
| Still got more money | |
| The look in your eyes, I you know you want some | |
| Still got more money | |
| Pour it up, pour it up | |
| That’s how we ball out | |
| That’s how we ball out | |
| That’s how we ball out | |
| That’s how we ball out | |
| [Verse: T.I.] | |
| I catch a case and I go to jail (still got more money) | |
| I came home and went back over there (still got more money) | |
| I’m multiplying everything I spend (still got more money) | |
| These trap niggas I represent (still got more money) | |
| It’s Hustle Gang and we poppin’ | |
| Got big bank rolls in our pockets | |
| Hoppin’ out a foregin vehicle | |
| Throwin’ forty Gs, ain’t no issue, bitch, bitch! | |
| I’m thorough as it get, official, bitch, bitch! | |
| Better watch your pussy poppin’ | |
| I might wanna come and get you, bitch | |
| Now everywhere you may see me | |
| Surrounded by bad bitches like Rih-Rih | |
| Got them booty shots, look like Nicki | |
| Face and toes pretty, I’m picky | |
| See these trap niggas, they on to me | |
| And these rap niggas up under me | |
| Ain’t nothin’ for me to get a hundred keys | |
| And then stimulate the economy, like… | |
| [Hook] |
| Say, RihRih, let' s take this shit to the street onetime, you know? | |
| Throwin' hundreds like loose change still got my money | |
| Got your broad in that Mulsanne that Bentley, homie | |
| Seats whiter than cocaine that 40 on me | |
| Got me and ChiChi, bring broads, mane | |
| She like my homie | |
| Verse: Young Jeezy | |
| I' m King Tut with my gold chain | |
| My partner with me, he the dope mane | |
| Straight gassed, nigga, that BP | |
| On that E40, that OG | |
| These bitch niggas be actin' up | |
| These hoe niggas be actin' foul | |
| They' ll grind with you, they' ll shine with you | |
| Be pointin' fingers off at your trial | |
| My Rolls Royce with my driver in it | |
| Gettin' fucked up ' cause I ain' t got to drive | |
| Got Kendrick on them bottles | |
| Came and poured a swimming pool and we about to dive | |
| Got one room, got three bitches | |
| And you' re damn right that' s where they' re supposed to be | |
| Two glock . 40s at all times | |
| I' ll shoot back if niggas shoot at me, you know it | |
| Hook: Rihanna | |
| Ohhh | |
| All I see is signs | |
| All I see is dollar signs | |
| Ohhh | |
| Money on my mind | |
| Money, money on my mind | |
| Throw it, throw it up | |
| Watch it fall out from the sky | |
| Throw it up, throw it up | |
| Watch it all fall out | |
| Pour it up, pour it up | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| Throw it up, throw it up | |
| Watch it all fall out | |
| Pour it up, pour it up | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| Verse: Rick Ross | |
| My foreign cars domestic beefs | |
| Peter Luger' s the better seats | |
| Dollar after dollar bottle after bottle | |
| Late for you haters even though my plane charter | |
| Suede Bally shoes, true rude boy | |
| Ferrari 400 horses, we do it for cool points | |
| Baby, do the math I' m coppin' Chanel bags | |
| Talkin' Bell Harbour cigars for her mans | |
| Know we run the streets, eatin' cold bully beef | |
| Now we at the Grammys, Tom Ford to my feet | |
| Boss on the avey, Rihanna screensaver | |
| Whenever you see the fat boy, you know it mean paper | |
| Verse: Juicy J | |
| Juicy J pourin' up codeine Benz all white, no chlorine | |
| Bad chick with me got ass and titties | |
| Freaky bitch gon' fuck the whole team | |
| Ziplock bag full of OG I go in like a door key | |
| Your girlfriend on both knees, she catch more balls than a goalie | |
| Purple all in my sprite, I' m high as Denzel on Flight | |
| Scared of money, don' t make no money | |
| You niggas shaky like dice | |
| I' m in the bed with your wife | |
| We poppin' pills, we goin' hard | |
| When she with you she a church girl | |
| When she with me she a pornstar | |
| Smokin' on doobies like cigarettes | |
| Which one of these strippers give head the best? | |
| Pussy so good that I think I' m in love | |
| What am I saying? It must be the drugs | |
| Pour it up, pop that ass out, make it rain, hoe | |
| I' ll make it flood, shorty, you might need a raincoat | |
| Verse: Rihanna | |
| Strip clubs and dollar bills | |
| Still got more money | |
| Patron shots, can I get a refill? | |
| I still got more money | |
| Strippers goin' up and down that pole | |
| And I still got my money | |
| Four o' clock and we ain' t going home | |
| Still got more money | |
| Money make the world go around | |
| I still got my money | |
| Bands make your girl go down | |
| Still got more money | |
| Lot more where that came from | |
| Still got more money | |
| The look in your eyes, I you know you want some | |
| Still got more money | |
| Pour it up, pour it up | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| Verse: T. I. | |
| I catch a case and I go to jail still got more money | |
| I came home and went back over there still got more money | |
| I' m multiplying everything I spend still got more money | |
| These trap niggas I represent still got more money | |
| It' s Hustle Gang and we poppin' | |
| Got big bank rolls in our pockets | |
| Hoppin' out a foregin vehicle | |
| Throwin' forty Gs, ain' t no issue, bitch, bitch! | |
| I' m thorough as it get, official, bitch, bitch! | |
| Better watch your pussy poppin' | |
| I might wanna come and get you, bitch | |
| Now everywhere you may see me | |
| Surrounded by bad bitches like RihRih | |
| Got them booty shots, look like Nicki | |
| Face and toes pretty, I' m picky | |
| See these trap niggas, they on to me | |
| And these rap niggas up under me | |
| Ain' t nothin' for me to get a hundred keys | |
| And then stimulate the economy, like | |
| Hook |
| Say, RihRih, let' s take this shit to the street onetime, you know? | |
| Throwin' hundreds like loose change still got my money | |
| Got your broad in that Mulsanne that Bentley, homie | |
| Seats whiter than cocaine that 40 on me | |
| Got me and ChiChi, bring broads, mane | |
| She like my homie | |
| Verse: Young Jeezy | |
| I' m King Tut with my gold chain | |
| My partner with me, he the dope mane | |
| Straight gassed, nigga, that BP | |
| On that E40, that OG | |
| These bitch niggas be actin' up | |
| These hoe niggas be actin' foul | |
| They' ll grind with you, they' ll shine with you | |
| Be pointin' fingers off at your trial | |
| My Rolls Royce with my driver in it | |
| Gettin' fucked up ' cause I ain' t got to drive | |
| Got Kendrick on them bottles | |
| Came and poured a swimming pool and we about to dive | |
| Got one room, got three bitches | |
| And you' re damn right that' s where they' re supposed to be | |
| Two glock . 40s at all times | |
| I' ll shoot back if niggas shoot at me, you know it | |
| Hook: Rihanna | |
| Ohhh | |
| All I see is signs | |
| All I see is dollar signs | |
| Ohhh | |
| Money on my mind | |
| Money, money on my mind | |
| Throw it, throw it up | |
| Watch it fall out from the sky | |
| Throw it up, throw it up | |
| Watch it all fall out | |
| Pour it up, pour it up | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| Throw it up, throw it up | |
| Watch it all fall out | |
| Pour it up, pour it up | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| Verse: Rick Ross | |
| My foreign cars domestic beefs | |
| Peter Luger' s the better seats | |
| Dollar after dollar bottle after bottle | |
| Late for you haters even though my plane charter | |
| Suede Bally shoes, true rude boy | |
| Ferrari 400 horses, we do it for cool points | |
| Baby, do the math I' m coppin' Chanel bags | |
| Talkin' Bell Harbour cigars for her mans | |
| Know we run the streets, eatin' cold bully beef | |
| Now we at the Grammys, Tom Ford to my feet | |
| Boss on the avey, Rihanna screensaver | |
| Whenever you see the fat boy, you know it mean paper | |
| Verse: Juicy J | |
| Juicy J pourin' up codeine Benz all white, no chlorine | |
| Bad chick with me got ass and titties | |
| Freaky bitch gon' fuck the whole team | |
| Ziplock bag full of OG I go in like a door key | |
| Your girlfriend on both knees, she catch more balls than a goalie | |
| Purple all in my sprite, I' m high as Denzel on Flight | |
| Scared of money, don' t make no money | |
| You niggas shaky like dice | |
| I' m in the bed with your wife | |
| We poppin' pills, we goin' hard | |
| When she with you she a church girl | |
| When she with me she a pornstar | |
| Smokin' on doobies like cigarettes | |
| Which one of these strippers give head the best? | |
| Pussy so good that I think I' m in love | |
| What am I saying? It must be the drugs | |
| Pour it up, pop that ass out, make it rain, hoe | |
| I' ll make it flood, shorty, you might need a raincoat | |
| Verse: Rihanna | |
| Strip clubs and dollar bills | |
| Still got more money | |
| Patron shots, can I get a refill? | |
| I still got more money | |
| Strippers goin' up and down that pole | |
| And I still got my money | |
| Four o' clock and we ain' t going home | |
| Still got more money | |
| Money make the world go around | |
| I still got my money | |
| Bands make your girl go down | |
| Still got more money | |
| Lot more where that came from | |
| Still got more money | |
| The look in your eyes, I you know you want some | |
| Still got more money | |
| Pour it up, pour it up | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| That' s how we ball out | |
| Verse: T. I. | |
| I catch a case and I go to jail still got more money | |
| I came home and went back over there still got more money | |
| I' m multiplying everything I spend still got more money | |
| These trap niggas I represent still got more money | |
| It' s Hustle Gang and we poppin' | |
| Got big bank rolls in our pockets | |
| Hoppin' out a foregin vehicle | |
| Throwin' forty Gs, ain' t no issue, bitch, bitch! | |
| I' m thorough as it get, official, bitch, bitch! | |
| Better watch your pussy poppin' | |
| I might wanna come and get you, bitch | |
| Now everywhere you may see me | |
| Surrounded by bad bitches like RihRih | |
| Got them booty shots, look like Nicki | |
| Face and toes pretty, I' m picky | |
| See these trap niggas, they on to me | |
| And these rap niggas up under me | |
| Ain' t nothin' for me to get a hundred keys | |
| And then stimulate the economy, like | |
| Hook |